Old Friends
by CastawayChewie
Summary: Right after the events of HB2, a former member of the BPRD comes forward to help her friends, and learns a lot of what she missed in her 10 years away. Can everyone adjust to a new home? Can they have a real life? Can they fight Hellboy's "destiny?"
1. How such things begin

**Author's Note:** (cracks knuckles) Okay, first writing in a while, and first publishing in even longer. Cut a girl a break on anything that's out of place, and don't be surprised if it takes me a while to get the dialogue and characterizations right. Please R and R, constructive criticism welcome.

**Twenty years ago:**

Winter had come early to northern New York, but then again, this was not an uncommon occurrence. The wind was howling between the houses that sat closely together on Branch Street, tossing snowflakes into uneasy cyclones.

The little girl hiding in the corner, head buried in her arms, could feel the drafts coming from the window above her. Her foster father kept saying he was going to re-caulk the windows, but it was just one of those things that got lost in the shuffle of ordinary life.

But the child wasn't hiding from the wind or the cold. She was hiding from the cyclone inside of the house, the chaos she was beginning to believe she really was responsible for after all. She had gotten into a fight with Cindy, the _real_ daughter in the house, and Cindy had broken her heart by tearing the head off of her only doll. She had run to the kitchen in hysterical tears, to ask her foster mother to make things right, but had been ignored. That was when things got bad. Again.

The flour, sugar and tea containers had shattered, their contents tossed to the center of the room by invisible hands. As her tears increased, the white powders and tea bags had organized themselves into cyclones, joined soon by the contents of the broken salt and pepper containers.

At the sight, the girl had run to the living room and huddled in the corner, arms on her knees, curled into a self-protective ball, trying to calm her tears and awaiting her punishment. She'd been kicked out of foster homes a number of times for similar incidents, and she waited for the social workers to come and tell her to pack up, it was time to leave again.

As a matter of fact, Laura Hough, the child's foster mother, had not contacted Social Services at all because she believed she understood what was going on with the little girl. Laura herself had had a sister who had exhibited odd behaviors as a child, behaviors that had been considered paranormal. Last week, she had contacted a government agency that specialized in these things. Maybe the child could get help that didn't involve being switched from home to home.

_Of course, they pick tonight to show up,_ Laura thought to herself as the doorbell chimed. Cindy had been sent to her room for what she'd done to the little girl's doll, and now, as she stood in the hallway and could see the whirlwind of foodstuffs calming in the kitchen and the child huddling in the corner, she saw a single man in winter gear standing on the doorstep.

"Mrs. Hough, is it?" the older man smiled warmly as he stepped inside. "Where is the girl?"

"She's there, in the living room," Laura replied, gesturing to the child, then leading the way to her. "My daughter ruined her doll, and we just had another, well, incident." Now she knelt down and addressed the child, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Honey, someone's here to see you. It's okay to look. He's not going to hurt you."

The little girl lifted her tear-streaked face and brushed her hair away for a better look at the older man who had also knelt to her eye level and was smiling gently at her. "Are you another social worker?" she asked quietly, snuffling up more tears.

"No, not at all," the man replied with a gentle chuckle. "My name is Dr. Broom. What's yours?"

"Samantha Gold," the little girl answered with a waver in her voice, though her watery eyes stayed unflinchingly on his face. "It's a long name. I get called Sam a lot."

"Well, Sam, let me tell you about where I live. I would like to take you there for a visit . . ."

* * *

Now thirty years old, Sam Gold had always looked at that as the most important moment of her life. She smiled at the memory as she flicked through the TV channels. Her six-year-old daughter, Lily had been tucked away into bed for a couple of hours now, and she was tucked away in her living room, in her house, the isolated farmhouse she had scrimped and slaved and dreamed for.

Sam had left the BPRD ten years before, feeling in control of herself and her life, and wishing for what she had finally attained. Single motherhood had not exactly been in the plan, but she had fit it in and would never trade Lily for a single thing in the world.

All at once, familiar faces were on her television screen. Faces that weren't supposed to be seen in public, let alone national TV. The faces of her friends. There was Abe, dear Abe who couldn't get over the fact that she was a rock fan. There was Liz. Boy, she was probably pissed off. And there, to top it all off, was Hellboy himself, actually talking to the reporters.

The remote dropped out of her slack hand. Her friends, on TV. Trouble. She hadn't been to Jersey since Dr. Broom's funeral, but now it seemed it was time. Sam had spent moments over the last ten years wondering when she was going to get a sign to come back to her first home. This was it.

After a quick call to the neighboring farm asking them to take care of the chickens, she packed herself and Lily into her truck and headed south on the highway, back to the place she had once called home and the friends she hadn't seen in years, but who now needed her help. She could feel it.


	2. Red and frantic calls

**Author's Note: ** Well, here's chapter two. I'm trying to flesh out Samantha's growing up and getting to know everyone while telling the current story at the same time. Basically, the present time line is going to intersect right where HB2 left off. I hope someone's actually reading this. If so, please drop a line!

Also, thanks bunches weapon13WhiteFang! I hope I don't disappoint.

**Twenty Years Before:**

The best part of living in BPRD headquarters, Samantha had decided during her week living there, were the long corridors that were perfect for running. And run she did, allowing her light brown hair to fly and her weathered sneakers to squeak against the floor. The agents only stopped or slowed her occasionally, and usually coerced her with a piece of gum or candy.

The worst part were the practices she had to do. She was asked, at various times, to use her power, which she learned was called 'telekinesis' The idea was for her to try to focus it, but moving even the smallest item at this point made her very tired.

Everything else fell into that in-between land that most children harbor for those things in their lives that they have not yet fully analyzed and therefore neither fall into a good or bad category.

This day, she was not running, but simply wandering, exploring. The halls had numerous display cases with different historic and paranormal artifacts. She was walking slowly between them, dragging her feet just for the sake of the noise. Sam was bored. She had few toys, her schoolwork was done for the day, she didn't feel like reading, and the other girl there, Liz, was two years older than her and didn't at all seem interested in conversation, let alone playing.

She sighed heavily, moving toward the last display case before the large, locked metal door at the end of the hall. Sam had been told that this was where Dr. Broom's son lived. His name was Hellboy and she had met him only once, and he had seemed a bit surprised when she did not appear to be at all afraid of him. The reasoning in her child's mind was that if he was there, a safe place, he wouldn't hurt her.

"Hey, Sprout." An agent in a black suit was approaching, pushing a big cart piled with food. Sam recognized him.

"Hi, Mr. Swifton. Where are you going with all that food?"

"It's Red's lunchtime. My turn to deliver."

Sam inspected the cart. "That's a _lot_ of food. How come you guys never bring food to _my_ room? Breakfast in bed would be lots of fun. I promise I wouldn't get crumbs in the sheets."

Swifton chuckled. She was a cute little girl. "I'll talk to Broom about it. You'd better get going. I've got a job to do."

"I wanna come. Please? I'm soooo bored." Now she hopped from foot to foot. "I'll be so good, and not make a sound and do whatever you say."

The agent cocked an eyebrow at the child. "Have you actually _seen_ Red yet?"

Sam nodded eagerly in affirmation. "Uh-huh. He was surprised 'cause I wasn't scared of him. Now please. I'll be good and I won't tell anyone."

"Well, okay, but don't make a sound. The food's already late and he might be a little cranky."

The door opened and Sam walked tentatively next to the cart, one hand resting on it as she took in the room. There was stuff everywhere. A giant pile of television sets, all tuned to different channels, music blaring, and cats. Lots of grown cats and kittens scrounging in various bowls throughout the room.

"Swifton, ya finally brought my food," came a voice from the corner before Hellboy emerged, pulling the cigar out of his mouth and looking first at the cart, then at Sam, who was watching his every move. "Kid," he started, exhaling a puff of smoke. "What's your name again? What're you doing in here?"

"I'm Samantha. Sam." She replied without hesitation. "I was bored today and asked Mr. Swifton if I could come with him to bring your lunch." She paused for a moment, debating if she should say what she wanted to next, then decided to go for it. "You know, Mr. Hellboy, they taught us in school that smoking is bad for you, and that you especially shouldn't smoke in front of kids."

Looking nervous, Swifton grabbed the girl by the hand. "Say bye now, Sam. I'll get her out of your hair, Red." The demon man was like a spoiled child at times, and he didn't want to upset him with what the little girl was coming out and saying.

Hellboy simply chuckled, and butted the cigar in a nearby ashtray. "Aw, it's okay, Swifton. She's honest. I usually don't get kids in my room, so it's not a big deal for me to stop around 'em. Father's always on me to quit anyway." Now he directed his attention to Sam again. "But what's all this 'Mr. Hellboy' stuff?"

Sam shrugged. "Just being polite, I guess."

"Well, unless you wanna run around being called 'Miss Samantha,' you'd better call me Hellboy or Red, okay?"

Sam grinned up at him. "Can I stay over and pet your cats?"

"A girl after my own heart. Sure you can. You hungry?"

Sam just grinned again.

* * *

Sam was not happy in the least. The many miles, tollbooths, truck stop bathrooms and time creatively coming up with 'learning while driving' adventures added up in her head as she listened to an agent tell her that Red, Liz, Abe, and someone called Krauss were in Ireland fending off a Golden Army. Not only that, but they had run off without authorization and were being chased by everyone's favorite agent, Manning

All Sam could do was grit her teeth. She really wanted to help her friends, but already she was going to lengths that she should really have expected, but were frustrating nonetheless. "Put me through to Manning." She told the agent in a frustrated tone.

"I'm afraid I'm going to need some kind of authorization, ma'am." the agent replied in a slightly bored voice.

Sam sighed heavily, closed her eyes and mentally pictured the cell phone in the case on the man's hip, then concentrated on the energy to move the phone to the man's hand. When she opened her eyes, the job was done.

"I believe _that's_ your authorization. Now put me through to Manning."

Lily watched from where she had been instructed to stay in the truck. Though she could feel her mother's frustration through her empathic abilities, she couldn't help but think her mom really _was_ the toughest woman in the world.

**Meanwhile, in Ireland . . .**

"Liz, Red!" Abe called, waving for his friends to come back up the hill to him. They had watched, concerned, as he had run to Manning when he'd called, and waited for him to return. "Quickly."

"What's going on, Blue?" Hellboy asked as the three met each other. "What could Manning want? Didn't change your mind, did you?"

"Not at all," Abe appeared excited. "That was Samantha. She saw us on television and came as quickly as she could. It appeared she had to strong arm the agents at home to put her through to Manning, but she got it done."

Confusion crossed the pair's features. "Sam?" Liz asked. "Why would she rush to us like that? She loves retirement."

"Yes, she does, but when she saw us, she knew we needed help. I told her we'd resigned, and she offered us a safe place to live. All we have to do is fly back."

"She finally got that farm she wanted, didn't she?" Red commented, not without a smile.

"I assume so. She claims there is enough room for us all, but she refuses to divulge the location."

"So we have to fly back with the BPRD?" Liz asked. "They're going to try to get us to stay."

"Never in a million years," Red asserted, leading his girlfriend further up the hill. "We'll take their free ride and then see what Sam has up her sleeve."


	3. Bargains and arrangements

**Author's Note: ** Well, here I am again, still writing this story. I will continue my present format of Sam's childhood merging into her adulthood. The story now breaks away from the ending of HB2 and gives another idea of what could happen next. Again, many thanks to weapon13WhiteFang. I hope I continue to keep your interest. I also hope I have other readers out there, and if so, let me know!!

**Twenty Years Before:**

The small room that had been designated as a classroom was quiet except for the occasional sigh, the scratch of a pencil, the rubbing of an eraser. It had been decided after a couple of weeks by Dr. Broom that both Sam and Liz should study together despite their age difference. In his opinion, the socialization would be good for them both.

In the last three days, there had been little socialization. Sam was upset about it, but did not vocalize her opinion out of fear of reproach from the older girl. She didn't fully understand why the other girl acted as she did, but Sam was a champion eavesdropper from her years in foster homes and had witnessed Liz mainly isolating herself, and, on a few occasions, crying. She wanted nothing more than to be a friend, to have a friend.

A heavy sigh came from the other side of the table, and Sam looked up from her math book to see the other girl studying her with tired, dark eyes.

"So what did _you_ do to get stuck in this hiding place for freaks?"

Sam stared for a moment, her mouth working soundlessly. Freaks? Is that what this girl thought all of them were? Freaks?

"I'm no freak. I'm special, 'cause I can move things with just my mind. Dr. Broom says so. Everybody here is special, including _you_." Sam crossed her arms defiantly and challenged Liz with a steady gaze from her blue eyes.

The older girl laughed bitterly. "Broom told you I was special, did he?" She rested her head in her hand and continued to study the younger girl. "He's a very good person, but he has no idea what he's talking about. Do you know what I do?"

Sam shook her head soberly.

"I can make fire. I make fire and I can't control it. I burned down my house with my whole family in it because I can't control my 'special' ability." She used finger quotes with her free hand with the word special, then slammed her own school book shut. "They think they're going to be able to teach me to control this, and I'll let them try, but it will never take back what I did."

"I can't control what I did, either. That doesn't make you bad, 'cause you didn't know. You didn't want to hurt anybody. Besides, if you couldn't control it, wouldn't you be burning me or something right now?"

Liz's eyes narrowed. She was used to Dr. Broom making light of the situation, but here was this little kid who didn't know anything at all trying to tell her that the whole world was wonderful and that she was not the terrible person she knew herself to be. "Listen, Sam," she began. She basically wanted to tell the younger girl to give it up without being too mean.

She was stopped short when she felt a small hand slip into her own free one and squeeze lightly.

"I'll make a bet with you," Sam said quietly and soberly, looking the other girl in the eye. "I think you _can_ control yourself. I'll bet you can hold my hand until dinnertime without hurting me at all."

"And what happens when I burn the crap out of you?"

"You won't because you'll remember that you'd be hurting somebody. You never really _want _to hurt anyone."

"Okay, miss know-it-all, say I go along. What're the stakes?"

"Does that mean who gets what when they win?"

"Yeah, that's what it means."

Sam thought for a moment. "Okay, when I prove to you that you won't hurt me for most of the day, I want us to hang out. Since you're older, we can do whatever you want. You gotta be bored sometimes, like me."

"Are you serious? You want me to play with you? What do you like to do, anyway? Play house or baby dolls or something?"

"No. I'm ten, not a baby. I like to explore, and read, and play spy. When you're all by yourself for a long time, you get a good imagination."

"And what if I don't want to go along with this?"

Sam shrugged. "Then I guess you don't. But I think you just don't want to do it because you know I'm right. Besides, what else do you have to do all day long?"

As much as she hated to concede to the fact, the younger girl was right. She was curious to test herself, and she really did feel she could pull this off. A kid was trusting her. Someone was just blindly trusting her, and it felt odd. It also felt good. She wasn't going to hurt Sam, no matter what.

She nodded once. "Okay, I'm in."

* * *

Sam sighed heavily and stuffed her phone back into the pocket of her battered Army-Navy jacket. She and Lily had been waiting for some time now for the plane to return. She knew it wasn't going to be an instant return, but she figured she could kill some time renting a U-Haul trailer. The line and process had been shorter than expected, and the clerk had assured her that there was a branch near her home in Connecticut where she could return it.

Now, they were just sitting outside of the truck in the sunshine by the hangar. She was not always known for her patience during what she felt was a serious situation, but little harassment of the agents had been necessary before they showed her where it was best to wait. Apparently, they didn't like having their own property shoved into their hands, and Sam could bluff through the fact that using her powers made her tired after so long without practice.

Lily was happy to be out of the car where she had spent so many hours, but she was still following all of her mother's directions. She could sense the tension and anticipation coming from her mom, but through a six-year-old's mind, she interpreted Sam as being nervous and happy to see and help her old friends.

"Mom?" Lily asked, carefully putting down the bouncy ball from her jacks game. She had been trying for a new record, seven, but it seemed her hands were a little too small to hold them all at once.

"Yeah, Lils," Sam replied, reaching out and pushing Lily's bangs out of her face.

Lily squinted her eyes as she tried to phrase her question properly. Lately in her home schooling adventures, she had discovered grammar and pronunciation. At first, it had been a game for her to phrase and pronounce everything correctly, but lately, Sam was becoming nervous at how hard the kid was pushing herself. Sam had read about kids doing that, and they usually turned out to be geniuses. Maybe Abe would be a good sounding-board with that theory.

"I know that you told me that you've been friends with all of these people since you were a kid, and I know that you're happy to help them by letting them stay with us, but . . ." She trailed off and pursed her lips into a little rosebud.

"But something about them scares you?"

Lily nodded, a little scared of disappointing her mom.

Sam put an arm around Lily's shoulders. "You know that I've always taught you that looks don't mean anything in the world, right?"

Lily picked up on her mother's line of thought right away. "Mom, wait. I'm not scared of them. Not at all. I'm just worried they won't like _me_." She looked down at the ground. "I'm a kid, and I can't help you if anything happens. I don't know anything about the stuff you guys used to do. I'm just gonna be in the way." She choked back a small sob.

"Lily Annabelle Gold," Sam began in a gentle voice, tilting the girl's chin up so they were eye-to-eye. "You are not 'just a kid.' You are smart, you are strong and you are wonderful. Who would remember to feed those crazy chickens every morning if not for you? Who would find all of the stuff I lose on a daily basis? You help me every single day."

"But what if there's trouble, Mom? What if something dangerous happens?"

"Then you let me take care of things. I'm your mom, and it's my job to protect you if something bad happens. Worse comes to worse, I tell you exactly what to do." Sam paused to give the girl's shoulders a squeeze. "Now, as for those friends of mine, they're going to think you're awesome, just for the simple fact that you're my kid and _I'm_ pretty awesome."

Lily giggled at her mother's overt display of self-confidence. Sam was a very confident person, but she also liked to make Lily laugh by pretending she was completely full of herself.

Those concerns addressed, the two were able to rest with their backs against the side of the truck and play Lily's travel Tic Tac Toe game, which Sam was more than willing to let the child win. Lily was crowing joyfully over another win when Sam happened to look up and see a slim figure, clad in black and carrying a large duffel bag over their shoulder, walking toward them hesitantly.

"Abe?" Sam called, pulling herself up and wincing at the pins and needles that had settled into her legs. She would notice that curious head-tilt from a mile away. She sped up and was hugging him in record time, sleeping legs or not. After a moment, she pulled herself away and looked him over. "Suit's awesome. They made improvements since I've been gone."

"Unfortunately, not enough to entice us to stay any longer," Abe replied, following Sam's lead as she walked back toward the truck.

"Yeah, what _was_ that mess all about?"

"Keeping a long story as short as I can, the bureau decided that leaving the Golden Army in hibernation was more important that saving Red's life." He shook his head morosely. "Perhaps it would be better if we didn't discuss that at length just yet."

Sam was taken aback for a moment. "Everybody's okay now, right? You didn't tell me on the phone that anyone was hurt."

"Everyone is fine." Abe made the telltale cock of his head again as he noticed Lily standing by the truck, hesitantly crossing her arms at the waist. "Samantha, is that your daughter?"

"Yeah, that's Lily. She's six now. Sorry I haven't sent a picture in a while. We started the whole home school thing, and then, you know, a big old farmhouse doesn't keep itself up."

"Home schooling?"

"She's an empath. I didn't want her in a big classroom with that childhood emotional stew. Plus, the bus ride takes _forever._ I couldn't do that do her."

"Is Abe the only one that's allowed to stay at your house?" A voice called from behind them. Hurriedly, Sam instructed Abe to throw his bag in the truck bed and introduce himself to Lily.

"Hey, stranger," Sam greeted, hugging Liz tightly. The other woman was the closest thing to a sister she'd ever known. "I hate to rush all of this, but we need to get on the road. We're already going to be doing a lot of night traveling. By the way," Sam pulled away and looked past her friend. "Where in the hell is Red?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "Taking forever going through his mountain of crap. You were lucky to get your last letter. It took me a week to find your address."

"Hey!" a familiar voice boomed, causing both women to turn toward it. "I told you not to call my stuff crap."

"And I know it didn't all fit into those two bags, because you are so not trashing my house," Sam asserted as she hugged the last of her friends. "Unfortunately, we'll have to talk on the road. Well, Liz can fill me in. As for you and Abe," she broke off to gesture to the trailer attached to her pickup. "Your chariot, sir."

"Only the best from the kid, huh?" Red ruffled Sam's shoulder length hair, just as he'd done since she was a child. "Abe never answered me before, didja get that farm you always talked about."

Sam nodded with a smile, then began to lead the entire group to the truck. "Other than that, I'm not saying a thing until we're the hell out of the great state of New Jersey. Now," she gestured grandly. "Girls in the front, boys in the trailer and bags in the truck bed. We're burning daylight and I want to get home. What about you guys?"

The chorus of affirmative responses was all that she needed to remind her why she had made this whole journey in the first place.


	4. Building hectic lives

**Author's Note:** I'm finally back again!! It's been a tough road to publishing lately, what with my Grandmother passing away, then Christmas right on it's heels. (I do two these days because I have in-laws), then my husband got me 'Under The Dome' for Christmas, which is a book I got totally sucked into until I finished. Despite all of that, I have to admit that I'm happy to be writing again after not having time or ideas for so long. With this chapter, I wanted to cover just a lot of the group orienting to the house and getting to know each other again, so the format is going to be a bit different. I've got a lot of ground to cover and I couldn't think of a long story that transitioned smoothly enough, so this chapter is going to be a series of one shot cameo stories, some of them might only be a sentence or two long. I hope that none of this disappoints. Also, there may be some people out there who may not particularly agree with the third vignette that deals with Lily's tantrum and Sam's response to it. In defense of it, first, a reviewer said that the kid seemed too sweet, and, frankly, she was right. Second, put yourself into the kid's position: You're six years old, an empath, and the only life you've ever known is one on a relatively secluded farm with your mom. All of a sudden, three new people get tossed into your life. You don't know anything about them except stories, and your mom is telling you that they're family, but all you notice is the havoc they're wreaking on your life. Third, Sam's philosophy that everyone has to let off a little steam now and then is straight from me. Children, at least most I've met, thrive on routine, and when you throw that routine completely off kilter, they're bound to explode in one way or another. A parent's job is to make sure it's a controlled burn, and I think Sam stepped up to that task well. If you're _still_ reading this ridiculously long note, you rock. On with it . . .

**September:**

It wasn't until the second morning, when everyone had gotten settled in a bit and had some sleep, that Sam dragged herself out of bed early enough to prepare a big breakfast. Lily padded into the kitchen about an hour after her mother and contented herself with setting the table.

Sam was busily mixing pancake batter and Lily was at the table, looking through her newest book when Liz walked into the kitchen and seated herself across from the little girl, resting her head in her hands.

"You're tired," Lily declared, putting down her book and squinting her eyes at Liz, something she was wont to do when reading another person's feelings. "Why does that make you worried? Mom said you guys were going to be tired for a while."

Liz studied the child. Sam had told them yesterday that her daughter was an empath, easily able to pick up on the feelings of others. Because of that, she was home schooled and basically sheltered in ways she supposed most kids didn't have to be. Being sheltered where she was seemed to be good for Lily, however, especially given her mother understood her situation.

"I guess I just feel like I'm not doing enough to help your mom," Liz replied finally, taking a small sip of the orange juice in front of her, then grimacing when it caused almost instant heartburn. "It's a pretty big thing for you guys to take us in and change your lives around for us."

"Lils, don't even dignify her with a response," Sam cut in, placing a mug of coffee in front of her friend. "If it weren't for any of them, Mom wouldn't _have _a family. And I've taught you about what family does for each other."

Lily nodded, then went back to her book. Sam went back to the food, and Liz debated the coffee she'd been given.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Is coffee okay when you're pregnant?"

"Ummm," Sam was focusing on pouring the pancakes while monitoring the bacon. "There's a study somewhere that says there may be a link between too much coffee and low birth weight, I think."

Sam didn't get it. "Low birth weight can be an issue for multiple babies, too, right?"

"Well, I'm no OB. I only know what I read while I was pregnant with Lily." Her attention was still on the stove.

"Which would be why I'm asking."

Comprehension slowly dawning on her face, Sam turned to face her old friend, spatula upraised in her hand. "Are you? You're? You guys're?"

Liz nodded, pleased that the other woman had finally put it together.

"Oh, oh my goodness. And you said multiples. I hope that only means two. Not that it's any of _my_ say but still," her babbling was cut off as she went into the fridge and poured a big glass of milk. "Going to have to share a room, and it's going to be so funny taking you clothes shopping, I love baby stuff, I hope there's a little girl in there, that's the only time I buy pink." Sam finally took a breath and put the glass in front of Liz. "Anything else you've been holding back on? Now's the time."

Liz thought for a moment about the meeting with the Angel of Death. If she told Sam all about that now, they would lose her for what could be months as she researched how to solve the problem.

She looked at Sam's expectant face and shook her head. Now was not the time. Not yet, anyway.

* * *

Red was becoming increasingly frustrated. He shook his head again as he looked at the four remote controls in front of him. The only buttons he understood were the power, channel, and volume buttons, but touching them had had no effect on any of the equipment in front of him. Since when did watching a DVD become so complicated?

"Sam!" he called, looking for the person who could solve his problem. "Sam, can you come help me?"

"Mom's outside," a young voice said from behind him, and he turned to see Lily's puzzled face. "Maybe I can help."

Red shook his head. "If I can't figure out all of these gadgets, I don't think a little miss like you could."

"What are you trying to do?"

"I got bored. I wanted to watch some movie, and your mom has too much crap here for me to work the DVD player. Who has four remotes?"

Lily giggled. It was not unkind, she was just amused to see such a big, intimidating guy baffled by her mom's home theater system. She moved to sit down on the couch next to him. "Don't worry," she assured. "I _can_ help you. I watch movies in here all the time."

Red sat, stymied, as a six year old child patiently explained how to watch a movie.

* * *

Lily was by nature and design a sweet, loving child. Sam was a fun, caring but firm mother who had established early on in her daughter's life the behaviors that were expected of her. For the most part, Lily didn't generally have a problem toeing the line. However, she was a young child, and every young child is subject to both disobedience and 'meltdowns,' as Sam called them with a laugh after the incident was over and done with.

Like every other six-year-old in the world, there were times when Lily didn't want to do her chores or homework, and sometimes used her empathic abilities to escape such things. She found the task easy. It simply involved 'scanning' her mother and waiting until she picked up on feelings of distraction or forgetfulness, and voila, there went her having to clean out that nasty chicken coop or do her (sometimes difficult and frustrating) math lessons. Sure, she'd have to do them another day once mom remembered, but for that day she got to play in her tree house, watch cartoons or sit idly by the pond and try to spot a koi.

In the week or so since her 'family's arrival, Sam had been keeping one eye on her little girl, waiting with anticipation for the meltdown she expected. Their household had more than doubled in size, there was only the one bathroom, she did not have unlimited access to her cartoons or her mom, and now there was all of the caution that everyone had to take. Even Lily had been commissioned to make sure Red did not break the house rules and get spotted.

Needless to say, it was not a surprise when Sam was jolted out of bed by the sound of her daughter crying and shouting around seven one morning.

Heading to the source of the noise, the bathroom, she saw Lily standing in the bathtub, shower curtain half-drawn, holding her Spa Time Barbie bathrobe to her chest tightly with one hand, using the other to pick up a bottle labeled "Captain Curtis Crayzee Banana Shampoo" and throw it against the wall, where it bounced, then fell to the floor.

"She came in and _barfed_ while I was taking a _shower_!" Lily screamed, her damp hair flying around her steadily reddening face. "I almost barfed, too! Not enough shampoo to wash my hair all the way! They can use Mommy's, they're _her_ friends." She stopped, then sucked in a large breath. "_Mooommmmeeeee!"_

"Right here, Lils," Sam said calmly from the door. She was going to let her daughter vent, she was going to let her yell, but she wasn't going to let her throw anything else. It was Sam's long-held belief that everyone had to let off some steam every once in a while, and the kid was just opening up her valves. "Put on your robe, and we'll talk about this."

"I don't wanna talk, I wanna _yell_!" Despite her continued yell, the child secured her robe and stepped out of the tub, now facing her mother, face still red. "I just wanted to take a shower and all my shampoo was almost gone! That banana stuff is _mine_! You buy it for _me_, not _them_! Then that lady came in and threw up! She said sorry, but it was so _gross_! I wanna watch Hannah Montana! I haven't watched _anything_ in three days because stupid old guy has to be in the house or the barn almost until my bedtime. I _hate _your friends, Mommy! I want them to go away, all of them! I want our lives to go back to regular now. They can go home!"

Sam nodded. "Take a nice, deep breath there, Lils. Do you want to yell some more or do you want to get a drink and we'll talk about how we can fix some of this stuff?"

"I'm kinda thirsty." She eyed her mother suspiciously. "They didn't drink all of my pink lemonade, too, did they?"

Sam shook her head. "Don't think so. I'll get you a glass and you go on to my room, have a seat on my bed. We'll talk about it in there. Go to my room quietly, okay?"

Lily's face was still red, her mouth still set in a line, but she nodded, then walked past her mother in the direction of the master bedroom.

They talked things over for a good part of the morning.

* * *

Sam had ordered the supplies over the internet, where she'd also gotten the schematics for the tank. She was studious, conscientious and orderly about the construction of the aquatic chamber for the basement.

Abe was reminded over and over again of the child he'd watched grow for ten years, the child who had always made sure he had new books set up on his pedestals and never tired of listening to him read to her.

Back then, they had begun to share books because of a mutual love for the hobby of reading, but as time went on, it became more about affection, one for the other. She was a good student, and as the years went by, she began to spend time researching with him, before her appetite for information became so voracious that she was researching more than he was.

Helping Sam work on her project with such determination, Abe saw not just the woman who was accommodating a space for him because she still cared. He also saw that child whose eyes lit up when he described Alice's descent into Wonderland.

Once again, Abe wished he could smile.

* * *

Liz smiled ruefully as she lowered herself into bed. As usual these days, she was turning in before Red, who was beginning to discover both the wonders of satellite TV and how tough a foreman Sam could be when it came to making sure the modifications she was making to the house were done on her schedule.

She only hoped a new, sturdy bed frame for them was next. It wouldn't be much longer before she'd need a crew to help her off of the mattress that was, as of now, positioned on the floor.

* * *

**October:**

"It's been one long day," Red sighed, settling himself at the kitchen table. The rest of the house was asleep, Abe in his pond. He and Sam had worked many hours on that blasted tank for Abe. It was taking forever, and Sam kept rechecking every detail so that she wouldn't have a flood on her hands. "How 'bout a beer?"

Sam sat down across from her old friend and slid a bottle across the table in his direction. She smiled before drinking from her own bottle.

He studied the label with narrowed eyes. "_Labatt Blue_?" he asked incredulously. "What's this crap?"

"It's not crap." Sam sighed and put her bottle on the table. "It's my favorite, and it happens to drink very well."

"It's not my brand."

Sam shrugged. "I have no freaking clue where the BPRD got your brand from. Now, man up and drink it."

When he finally raised the bottle to his lips, Sam did the same with her own before collapsing into laughter at the look on his face after his first sip.

* * *

Sam realized that Lily had finally accepted, or at least adapted to the new additions to their home the day after her seventh birthday when she walked into the living room with a hesitant smile on her face.

She turned to face her daughter, pausing the episode of 'The Office' she had recorded on the DVR while doing so.

"What've you got up your sleeve, there, Lily?"

"Me and Uncle Red wanted to know if he could show me how to shoot my BB gun in the barn." Lily's smile got wider. "He said he promises he won't smoke around kids."

Sam digested what her daughter had said for a moment. What was this 'Uncle Red' stuff? She shrugged and decided not to press that issue.

She had finally broken down and bought Lily a Red Rider for her birthday, a gift that seemed requisite for children on farms, being that little Carson from the next farm up had one and the girl had been asking for some time. But was she really going to let Red teach the girl how to use it when she was perfectly capable with firearms, and there were times that his skills were questionable? Why was Lily even asking, being that the man Sam considered her big brother was prone to impulsivity and should have the kid shooting away at soda cans in the barn by now?

"Are you asking because he's already given you a lesson?"

"No. I'm asking because he offered, and Uncle Abe and Aunt Liz said that I should ask you first."

Sam finally nodded, surprised again at Lily's easy use of the prefix 'aunt' and 'uncle.' Frankly, she thought it would take much longer than this for her daughter to embrace their new family. She found her voice. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Cans and pin-up targets only. I find either of you shooting at animals and you're both grounded for _ages_."

Lily nodded happily and ran from the room. Sam could only shake her head and smile.

* * *

The Angel of Death picked it's head up as if it had detected a sound. At it's feet, the sand swirled, revealing new carvings on the floor. It spread it's wings to get a better view. A figure juggling. A human figure juggling. When this carving was revealed, the one of Anung Un Rama remained stubbornly obscured. Death knew what this meant. It meant that the tables now had the potential to turn, that everything it had told the little girl, Sherman, could be wrong. There were new factors in place, and for once, Death could not find a way to manipulate the events that were due to unfold.

* * *

Life should have been good for Sam. The day had started out so positively, the week had started out so well. Abe's tank was finally finished, Red and Lily were getting along (and her schoolwork was ahead), Liz had accompanied her and Lily on a few shopping trips where they picked out winter coats and some new clothes. They had priced things they would need for the babies and Liz had even picked up a couple of books on pregnancy. The house had been quiet and almost peaceful. Sam should have seen it coming.

She and Abe had been up late, reading. Or trying to. For almost a month, Sam had tried to pry all of the information of the events preceding the group's resignation from the BPRD to her, and she had gotten almost everything. The only thing left to find out was who had saved Red and how much it had cost.

First she had had to help assuage Abe's feelings of guilt. He still believed most of what had happened after they brought Nuala to headquarters was his fault, and it had taken days before he took some of that burden off of his shoulders.

Sam was hungry for information, as she'd always been. That hunger had been what made her surpass Abe in research when she was still with the BPRD, and even at this stage in her life, she was not content until she had the full story.

That night, Abe finally spilled the proverbial beans. It turned out that Liz had confided in him about the Angel of Death incident and about Hellboy being the instrument of the Apocalypse. After Sam got over her shock from this information, she expressed her surprise that Liz had not confided in her.

Now replaying the exchange in her head as she sat on the back step of the house, she rubbed her neck with her free hand and exhaled her cigarette smoke. Sam was an occasional smoker who kept a pack or two hidden around the house. She had never revealed this secret habit to Red, knowing he would be full of gibes about her hypocrisy.

She took a long pull from her beer as she thought about how Abe had assured her that Liz didn't tell her simply because she knew that the whole household would lose Sam to long periods of research. In a way, she knew that Liz was right, but couldn't help but feel left out of the loop.

The truth was, she had already learned some of what Abe was telling her, and had memorized most of the passages. She guessed that she just always thought she'd have more time to work on a strategy. She had a rudimentary one, but execution was a big problem, as was the fact that some of the equipment she needed was only obtainable through the BPRD.

A shadow crept across her from behind and she turned her head in surprise, then gave a half-hearted smile to the person she saw standing there.

"Already getting pregnancy insomnia, huh?" Sam asked, pitching her cigarette and hoping her voice sounded more cheerful than she thought it did.

"Heartburn," Liz replied, opening the door with one hand and zipping her sweatshirt with the other. "What's your excuse?"

"Abe finally told me about the instrument of the Apocalypse thing," Sam replied simply, indicating for the other woman to sit nearby.

"Look, Sam, I really should have told you, but you had so much to do with the house, and Lily needs you. I didn't know how long it would take you to find what you wanted to know."

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah, he told me that part, too. Listen, I already know a lot about this. I have something of a plan, but I just always thought I had so much time, you know? I mean, he's like my big brother and I love him like crazy."

It was Liz's turn to nod. "I think I know the feeling."

"The name. Anung Un Rama. It's got a literal translation of "and upon his brow is set a crown of fire." Get rid of the crown, get rid of the problem. If I had a pair of those goddamn Schufftein glasses, I could at least visualize it, but I don't need those to guess where it is. I'm pretty sure it's a flaming crown. That's what the one or two illustrations I saw showed."

"Well, then, couldn't _I_ just pull it off?" Liz asked.

"Nope. Especially now. The power might just transfer to you or one of the peanuts," Sam gestured at her friend's abdomen. "I don't know who or what could remove it just yet, but I know it _can_ be removed. I've known that for about fifteen years. Pretty much what I need is at the BPRD, but I'm not setting foot in there until I have to, until the plan is rock solid. It's gonna be a stealth operation when I do it, too."

"I have to admit, it sounds like more of a plan than I've been able to come up with in the past couple of months. I haven't told Red a thing. I don't know what to say to him."

"Nothing, yet. Not until all of us know more." Sam turned to the woman she thought of and loved as her sister. "What was it that freak said to you? "Not today, not tomorrow, but soon enough?" We just keep operating as if it's today."


	5. Burning Books

**Author's Note: **I'm ba-ack! A huge, heartfelt sorry for being gone for so long. Unfortunately, that's the way life goes sometimes. But I'm back. This chapter is short, I know, but it's a pretty critical turning point, as you will soon see. I hope I still have some fans out there, and if you're reading this, I hope you're pleased with what you get.

**Fifteen Years Ago:**

Sam peered again at her alarm clock. It was a little after two in the morning, and everyone would be

asleep. Well, everyone except for the normal patrolling agents stationed at BPRD headquarters, but

they would not impede her progress to the library, or even find it odd. She had the habit of going there

nights when sleep was hard to find, but a good book wasn't.

This particular night, however, she was going to sneak a pair of ancient tomes from a secret annex off of the library and hide them in her room. It had taken her all of a week and a half to summon up the courage, days spent monitoring both Abe and Broom's literary habits to see if the books would be easily missed.

Recently, she had had her fifteenth birthday, and as a special gift from Abe and Broom, she was shown the annex and assigned to help Abe with a research project that would involve the old books. She had been researching with Abe for a little over two years now, and they had a familiar, complementary style. Both would start on the same project, then Sam would begin to chafe at Abe's methodical and orderly fashion. Not that she wasn't orderly when she was finding new information, but she wanted to find more, faster, and would begin to leapfrog between subjects, often finding something new, sometimes finding a connection that Abe had missed.

The cold hall floor was a shock to her feet as she gently closed her door and began to creep down the hall, reminiscing about what had led her to this mission. After about a week of going through the standard troll and fairy stories with Abe, she had begun to look further around the room. Every day for another week, she unearthed older and older books and flipped through them with fascination. One illustration in one book had caught her eye. The drawing could have been Red, if he had let his horns grow, blew something other than cigar smoke from his nostrils and had a flame atop his head. She noted the title "Filius Cado Unus," and filed the book away where she could find it again easily.

The second book that filled her with both fascination and dread had an illustration similar to the first, only the flames on Red's head had a crown articulated in them, and the roughly drawn figure was tearing down trees and homes while screaming humans looked on. "Prenuncius Ruina" became another book placed for an easy find.

The problem was, she ruminated to herself after assuring that Abe was indeed asleep in his tank, she didn't feel comfortable reading books like that in front of Abe or Broom. _They_ wouldn't need their Latin-English dictionary to tell them the tiles in English were "Son of The Fallen One," and "Harbinger of Destruction."

She didn't want questions, she didn't want them telling her not to read such upsetting things. She wanted to study what was written at her own pace, relying on her translation dictionary and the language lessons she was taking. She certainly didn't want anyone to think that anything in an old book was going to make her scared of Red, someone she loved like an older brother.

On the contrary, she was trying to empower herself with knowledge. Everything she had skimmed through in those books had looked like predictions and speculations. Maybe there was a way to prevent what happened in those pictures. The only way to find out was to study those books cover to cover.

She paused outside of the passage door to the annex. Nearly five years practicing her telekinetic skills, she was pretty sure she could crack the door and summon the books to herself. Opening the door all the way and clambering into the annex would just make way too much of a racket. Plus, if Abe woke, an alibi was more plausible if she was away from the door.

Sam closed her eyes and stood still, holding her arms out for what she hoped would land in them. She focused, just picturing the two books, picturing them moving from where she had placed them earlier in the day, pictured them lifting slowly and easily into the air together, pictured them moving quietly through the air, still together, pictured them moving easily into her waiting her arms. She didn't open her eyes until she felt the weight of the books.

Looking down quickly, she saw they were more dusty and fragile than she had recalled from just earlier in the day. She hugged them to her chest, hiding the titles, and feeling the nagging feelings of anxiety and curiosity lift away as she stole away to her room and hid the books. She had done it, and now she could sleep, both because she had gotten the books and because TK still made her tired.

**Present Day, November, Near Trenton, New Jersey:**

Zinco's cell phone rang in the distinctive tone he had reserved for Rasputin, his master. Despite his riches, he would be nowhere without Rasputin's near obsessive study of the occult, which had given him his long life span, on top of other things.

He had been sent on a recognizance mission, and the instructions had been simple: Find Bruttenholm's pet, see with whom he was associating, and learn his habits. His first reported results had angered Rasputin, as he had expected they would. The one they called Hellboy was no longer cloistered away at the BPRD headquarters. He hadn't been spotted in the area since his purported heroics three months previous.

Rasputin's voice was like a cold vapor through the speaker.

"Fenwick. He's with his friends on a farm in Fenwick, Connecticut."

"How should I proceed, Sir?"

"I will make this my game. Smoke them out of their little rat hole so they have to run back to Bruttenholm's hiding place. Try to keep as many alive as possible, especially Sherman."

Zinco hung up and signaled to his driver.

It was a peaceful night in Sam's house. Lily was tucked away in bed, Red was watching a prison reality show he had recently become addicted to for some unknown reason and Sam, Liz and Abe were in Sam's bedroom, looking over some of the research she'd gathered on her laptop. Sam was wishing she still had those books she had secreted away to her room at the BPRD so many years ago.

The trio was chatting, sometimes debating, sometimes pontificating, sometimes just falling into an easy pattern that had come to all of them again after about a month of living together.

Everything was shattered at the sight of Red's panicked face in the doorway, holding a fretting Lily in his arms. She was wrapped in her favorite princess blanket and whining in confusion at his interruption. All Sam could think was that she hadn't even heard him come up, Abe hadn't even told her he sensed the activity.

"Fire. We gotta get out now. I got your car keys, Sammy." He stated all of this while moving into the room, shifting Lily's position, and helping both women to stand.

"Fire?" Sam said uncomprehendingly. "My house? Put it out, let's put it out. It can't be that big."

"It is. It came from the basement and into the kitchen. I didn't even smell it. Now let's go!"

Lily began to cry. This propelled Sam somehow, and she ran to her closet, hooking her purse over her shoulder and grabbing her gun case from the top shelf. Her laptop was still in the other hand.

"I'm behind you. Go! Get Lily out!"

The other three adults turned to comply, when Lily shouted. "Mommy, Mommy, I'm scared!"

"It's okay, Lily, go with Uncle Red. Everything's okay."

"You're lying!" Sam heard her daughter scream as she was carried downstairs quickly. "It's not okay, you're lying to me!" Lily was sobbing as she screamed.

Sam made to follow behind Abe, made it down the stairs and into the living room, where flames were already hungrily consuming the walls and furniture. In her shock, she stopped. What happened? How? How did they not notice the house was burning? Was this an accident, or deliberate? If it was deliberate, who would burn her house down? Who wanted to hurt her, hurt them?

She had been struck dumb, still holding her purse, her laptop and the case containing her Glock, as she continued to watch her home burn. Suddenly, she felt a powerful arm go around her waist and literally lift her off of the ground.

"Everybody's in the car." Red assured her as he carried her out. She still continued to watch the fire destroy her surroundings, then was shivering in the cool of the night. Luckily, her spell was broken at the sensation of the air.

Sam broke away from Red and they both headed to the truck. "Did you find the blankets in the cab? Lily and Liz need blankets."

"Found 'em. Where are we gonna go, Sammy? We'd stick out at a Holiday Inn."

"Yeah, tell me about it." She turned to Red. "It's gonna be cramped, but you're gonna have to ride in the cab. The cover ought to keep you warm." She looked at the house again, then let a few tears fall as she watched how fast it was burning. "The place is totaled. I guess we're going back to the BPRD for now."

After securing Red, she got into the cab, checked the heat on the idling truck, then grabbed her GPS navigator, setting it for "Western New Jersey Waste Treatment Facility," the code name for BPRD headquarters.

Looking behind her, Lily was falling asleep again, cradled by her Uncle Abe. Liz was simply watching her as she pulled into the road and placed a 911 call on her cell.

"That fire was deliberate," Sam finally said when they reached the town limits sign. "For the house to burn so fast, without us even noticing, they had to use some kind of accelerant." She let more tears fall, then pounded her fist on the steering wheel. "I didn't want to go back there yet, Liz, I honestly didn't, but I don't see us with any other choice. They have to take us there."

"They have to house us, but they can't force us to take any missions," Liz asserted, only guessing at the pain Sam was suffering from. She put a hand to her belly, which was only now beginning to round out and show the presence of the babies.

"They won't have to house us long. I have insurance, good insurance. When the fire marshal rules arson, I'll get a big payoff and we'll get a different place." She sighed, then absently wiped tears from her face. "At least I was smart enough to put those papers in a safe deposit box at the bank. Any clues on how to build a fireproof house?"

Liz shook her head sadly. She was feeling pain of her own, pain from losing her safe haven, pain for her friend, and the pain of, for once, being the victim of a fire she had no hand in. "No clue."

"Me neither. We'll figure it out. All of us."

And Liz knew she meant more than just building a fireproof house.


End file.
